


To Not Going Blind

by Deannie



Series: They Came Upon a Midnight Clear [14]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Community: hc_bingo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-13
Updated: 2016-12-13
Packaged: 2018-09-08 08:59:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8838481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deannie/pseuds/Deannie
Summary: “A Romulan Zombie?! Are you mad? Fourteen kinds of alcohol, half of them illegal—Jim, those things’ll kill you!"





	

**Author's Note:**

> for the hc_bingo prompt strapped to a moving vehicle.

For a while, it was fun. Until the alcohol caught up with him.

“Lemme off,” he called. But the bar was full of loud and noise and loud and he was probably going to throw up soon. Nobody heard him or nobody cared. “Lemme off!”

“What the hell are you doing, man!?”

Bones. Bones! He’d help. “BONES! Lemme off!”

Okay, shouldn’t he be able to come up with more words than that?

“I don’t care what the bet is, just turn the damn thing—”

Bones’s words stopped registering as the world spun really, _really_ fast and Jim Kirk hit a wall. Literally. And hard.

“Jim, can you hear me?” Bones had hands on his head and his chest and “OW!”

“Yeah, well, when you ride a Juthurian wrecking ball you’re probably _going_ to break your arm,” Bones growled. He was pissed, wasn’t he?

Jim pried open his eyelids and peered through the blur of the bar and saw those weird brown-in-the-middle-green eyes glaring at him. “Your eyes are _weird_ ,” he commented. Because, they kind of were. And yes, Bones was pissed.

“Shut up and let me get you out of here,” Bones told him. He grabbed Jim’s arm that didn’t hurt so, _so_ much, and pulled him upright.

Which was when Jim’s brain lost all interest in the proceedings.

******

Eight hours later, Leonard McCoy gazed out at the bay and waited for his roommate to wake up and face the morning after.

Jim Kirk had been a partier from the beginning, and a brawler when he felt like it, but last night was… different.

When he’d met the younger man on that transport in Iowa, Leonard had just plain liked him. There was something broken about him, sure, but who wasn’t a little broken? And damn, he had grit. This first year in the academy was every hellish, overworked, underslept nightmare Leonard had been warned it would be, but Jim Kirk stood up to all of it with this dogged determination to just get the God damned job done. And have a good time doing it.

Last night was not a good time by any definition.

Nyota Uhura had woken Leonard out of a deep sleep around two in the morning, and he couldn’t have been more surprised. He knew her, of course—she and Jim had a chilly relationship, but since they were all in the same section, they kept running into each other. She wasn’t a person he’d expect to hear from outside of academy business.

“Your roommate?” she’d said seriously, though there were the sounds of chaos and revelry in the background. “He’s going to get hurt if he keeps this up.”

Jim had been quiet and down earlier in the day, but Leonard hadn't had time to figure out whether it was anything to worry about. Clearly it was.

“Where is he?” he’d asked, pulling on clothes.

Because Jim was his friend, right? And it wasn’t like the guy had anyone else to look out for him.

The man he'd found at that bar, three sheets to the wind? That wasn't the Jim Kirk he knew. Jim could tie one on, sure, but he didn't let it get to the point of insensibility.

Jim’s door finally swished open and Leonard turned from contemplating the view to watch as something resembling his roommate stumbled into the main room of their quarters. The zombie puttered to the kitchen and reached for the coffee synthesizer with his broken right hand, only then seeming to realize that there was a boneknitter wrapped around the thing.

“Even the undead need a little time heal,” Leonard said quietly, in deference to the huge amount of alcohol Jim had clearly drunk last night. “You’ll be good as new in a week, though.”

Jim stared at him a second, looked at the coffee synthesizer, and pressed the button with his left hand instead. “Thanks.”

“Want to tell me what happened last night?” Leonard asked, feeling uncomfortably like he'd acquired another kid. God knew Joanna had partied too hard sometimes, but he’d never thought he’d be having this talk with his best friend instead of his daughter. “Because, while I sometimes doubt your sanity, I didn’t expect to find you tied to the alien equivalent of a mechanical bull three days before exams.”

Jim clearly didn’t remember the bull.

“What’s going on?” Leonard tried again. Because obviously something was.

“I had something called a RomZom,” Jim told him blithely, ready to sweep the whole thing under the rug. “I might have had two.”

Against his will, Leonard was diverted. “A _Romulan Zombie_?! Are you mad?” He stepped away from the window, headed for the kitchen. “Fourteen kinds of alcohol, half of them illegal—Jim, those things’ll kill you!"

Jim smiled bitterly. “No such luck.”

The defeat in his voice stopped Leonard cold.

“Did I miss something?” he asked pointedly. “Last I knew you weren’t actively suicidal. Stupid as hell at times, sure, but—”

“Yesterday was my birthday.” It came out like he’d announced his impending doom. Then he hid behind his coffee mug and leaned over the countertop.

Leonard stared. And stared some more. “You didn't tell me.”

“Wouldn’t have had to if you hadn’t found me. Of all the bars in all the world…”

Jim snorted and smiled in that sad way he had sometimes, and Leonard reminded himself that he’d always known Jim was broken. To lose your dad like that…

Oh.

“Guess ‘Happy Birthday’ isn’t the right sentiment, is it?” Leonard said gently.

“No,” Jim agreed emphatically. He shrugged. “Mom says it. It’s not so bad then.” He stumbled to the couch and Leonard followed, dropping into the chair across the table from him. Words flowed from Jim’s mouth and Leonard did what any good friend did and just listened.

“When I was a kid—before I knew exactly… you know, what happened? I loved my birthday. Mom really tried. She did.” He sipped his coffee. “Had to suck to pretend to enjoy yourself when all you could remember was your husband being blown to bits.” He waved a hand. “I know that’s not the way she thinks about it, but I don’t see how the day I was born is anything but a kind of macabre reminder.”

Leonard figured to some extent it must be. He also thought maybe that little child and his birthdays were a reason for her to make it through another year and another and another.

“Anyway, I found this memorial plaque in her closet when I was six. I always knew Dad had died and he was… George Kirk, you know? A hero.” He chuckled. “His graveyard memorial doesn’t have the exact date on it.” He drank a little more of his coffee. “The plaque did.”

Leonard nodded, but damned if he knew what to say.

“So now,” Jim said, his tone fake and bright as he drained the last of his cup. “I don’t celebrate the day. I celebrate the day before, when they were happy. Or the day after, when she was safe. Or not at all, which is the best option.” He stared at the empty mug. “My stepdad died this year.”

Leonard hadn’t known that, either—not that Jim ever talked about the man. “Jim—”

“She’s all alone there in Iowa, and I think she actually likes it better that way, you know?” Jim stood, balancing unsteadily. “I called her yesterday and she said the silence was _nice._ ” He shook his head. “God knows it was never silent when we were all home together.” He sighed. “Just hit me wrong this year, I guess, with her by herself now…”

Jim stumbled to the breakfast bar and put his mug down, stared at the boneknitter on his arm. “Thanks for this, honestly,” he said quietly. Bright blue eyes came up and the smile in them was genuine now. “I don’t always have someone there to bail me out.” His forehead crinkled. “How’d you know where I was anyway?”

Leonard shook his head. “Trade secret,” he said. Then more seriously, “You’ll always have someone to bail you out, Jim. All you have to do is ask.”

“Didn’t even have to do that, this time.” Jim ran a hand over his face. “I’m gonna crash again.” He grinned the bad boy grin that hid a million tears. “Hey, how long did I ride the bull?”

Leonard snorted and let him have the win. “Long enough to pay for the damage to the wall you smashed into.”

Jim sighed and shambled off.

“Jim?”

“Yeah?” Jim stopped, but he didn’t turn around.

“Want to go out tonight? Have a birthday drink?”

His friend did turn at that, and Leonard grinned. “Hair of the dog that bit you?”

That determination to weather any storm broke through and Jim chuckled. “No RomZoms, though, okay?”

“You kidding me,” Leonard replied, letting the whole discussion gloss over and fade into the fabric, because that was the way Jim needed it. “Damn things’ll make you go blind.”

“Here’s to not going blind, then,” Jim said, walking into his room and letting the door close behind him.

Leonard turned back to the bay, determined to keep an eye on his friend whenever this time of year came along. He’d keep that promise to bail Jim out. And Jim was right…

He’d never even have to ask.

*******  
the end


End file.
